Monday, October 21, 2013

The Ghost Walker


We passed each other
Up-raised eyebrow
Imperceptible nod
The subtle muscle spasms
Of recognition

He drifted by
Nimble, insubstantial
Dapper, neat and trim
A light blond ghost
Dressed to daintily disappear

Perhaps he had perfected
His camouflage
A coat hanger
On which men
Could drape their pain

Then with a shake
Would let it fall
And leave it on the ground
The rotting compost
Of pain and shame

Or perhaps
The secrets of too many
Had bleached his sense of life
Disconnected, he had learnt
To blink and disappear

I wondered
As this pale ghost walker
Crossed my path again
My thoughts as unsubstantial
As he



No comments:

Post a Comment